One Short Day in Arkham City
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Just another ordinary day in Arkham City for the Joker and Harley Quinn...or is it?
1. Chapter 1

**One Short Day in Arkham City**

...

" **When Mr. J kills Batman, we're gonna get married! It's gonna be so cool!" – Harley Quinn,** _ **Batman: Arkham Asylum**_

...

It had been another crap day in Arkham City, thought Harley Quinn, as she made her way back home to the Steel Mill. Not that there had ever been a good day in Arkham City, she reminded herself – every day she had been in this dump had gone from bad to worse. Arkham Asylum had been a dump too, but at least that place contained fond memories for Harley of her and the Joker's courtship. And everybody hadn't been trying to kill each other there either, which was always a plus.

Arkham City was a whole different ballpark. It was like a war-zone, with every freak fighting for a piece of the turf. Every time you went outside, you took your life into your hands. Not that Harley was particularly worried about that – she could take care of herself. And everyone in here knew she was Joker's girl, and most were smart enough not to mess with her because of that. She had gone out to do some business for Mr. J – meeting with one of his spies in Penguin's gang to get some info. But the unreliable jerk hadn't showed. He always might have been caught by Penguin and killed, of course, in which case Mr. J would not be pleased. And Harley would have to be the messenger in giving him the bad news. She hated the thought of upsetting him, especially in his condition.

She felt tears come to her eyes when she thought about the Joker. Mr. J's condition kept steadily deteriorating every day they had been in this hellhole – he put on a brave face for the guys, but Harley saw him in private struggling to walk, coughing when laughed, choking up blood. It was agony to watch, especially since in her heart of hearts, she had this terrible feeling that Mr. J wouldn't get any better. That this was the end of the Joker. And if the Joker died, there was nothing left for her to live for.

She wiped her eyes, shaking her head and trying to dispel such thoughts as she reached the door of the Steel Mill. She also had to keep up appearances in front of the guys. It was important for their morale to think the Joker was fine, or if not fine, at least had some hope of recovering. If they didn't think that, chances are they'd desert to go join up with Penguin or Two-Face, like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Harley knew a lot of the guys would resent working under a woman if she had to take over. It was important for the continued safety of both her and Mr. J that they didn't even consider that as a possibility.

Though frankly if it hadn't been so important to Mr. J, Harley wouldn't really have cared. If things had to end, she would rather they ended alone together, with her and Mr. J dying in each other arms. It didn't matter to her whether it was at the hand of some random thug, or Batman, as she knew Mr. J secretly hoped. As long as they were together at the end, that was all that mattered to her. As long as they only parted at death, like those wedding vows promised, that was the only really important thing.

Harley had always wanted to marry the Joker – it had been a dream of hers from almost the moment they met. And the Joker kept putting off the proposal, never mind the actual ceremony. Once he'd said he'd marry her after he killed Batman, but that hadn't happened yet, which was unfortunate for a couple reasons. Harley had always hoped that one day her puddin' would pop the question – he was a random and unpredictable guy, after all. But that hardly seemed likely now.

It didn't really matter in the end, though, she thought. Harley already thought of herself as his wife – closer than his wife, even. They were soulmates, destined to be together for always. And even though Harley wasn't a particularly religious woman (she had been raised Jewish, but had long since lapsed), she didn't care if both of them went to hell after they died, as long as they were there together. After all, their whole relationship they had been battling Bat-devils – hell couldn't hold any worse terrors than that. And as long as they were together, they could fight them. As long as they were together, it would be just as good as heaven.

She forced a smile with great difficulty and opened the door to the Steel Mill. She was surprised to see the entire huge area of the loading bay in total darkness. Her mind instantly panicked – maybe Penguin or Two-Face was trying to cut off their electricity, maybe this was some kinda trap…

"Boys!" she shouted, reaching for the bat at her belt. "Hey, idiots! Who turned off the power?"

She was suddenly seized from behind by two sets of arms, as another person shoved a bag over her head. She screamed and struggled, fighting like mad, but another person had seized her legs and lifted her off her feet. She was carried someplace and then dumped on the ground, and then she heard a door slam and lock.

She ripped the bag off her head and looked around. She was still in the Steel Mill, locked in one of the rooms off the loading bay. Her heart raced in a mixture of panic and fury and anxiety as she wondered what the hell was going on, and if Mr. J was safe. If this was a trap by one of the other gangs, he could be in their clutches right now, and God only knows what they'd do to him.

She beat against the door furiously. "Lemme outta here, you jerks!" she shrieked. "Ain't you got the guts to fight a girl?!"

There was no response, and Harley's panic was not lessened. "Mr. J?" she cried. "Mr. J, where are you?! You better not be hurting him, you hear me?! Or you don't wanna know what I'll do to you when I get outta here! I'll…I'll saw your legs off and dump you in the incinerator! I'll beat you to a bloody pulp until you beg for death! I'll…I'll…"

Her panic and worry was overriding her anger, and she felt tears of desperation come to her eyes. "Mr. J!" she sobbed. "Mr. J, please! Please be all right!"

She sank down on her knees, collapsing into tears. Her sobs echoed off the cold walls of the steel mill as she drew her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. If she had thought this day couldn't get any worse, she had been very, very wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

...

" **Harley Quinn? I thought Joker dumped that crazy ass woman months ago."**

 **"No way, I heard they got married. You wouldn't let a piece of ass like Harley get away – you'd have to be crazy!" – Thugs,** _ **Batman: Arkham City.**_

...

It seemed like hours later when she heard the key turn in the lock on her door. Harley struggled to her feet, removing the bat from her belt and raising it over her head as she prepared to attack the first person who entered…

But nobody did. Harley tentatively tried the door and it creaked open. She carefully peeked her head out…and screamed as another bag was instantly forced over her head. She was grabbed again and dragged back into the loading bay, lashing out and shrieking at her attackers.

Then she was suddenly released, and the bag removed. Harley blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. The loading bay was still dim, but that was because it was lit solely by candlelight – a trail of votive candles along the floor led from her feet to the end of the loading bay, where the Joker stood, leaning on his cane and smiling.

"Sorry about the rough treatment, pooh bear, but you were back early, and you were gonna spoil the surprise," he said.

"Surprise?" repeated Harley. "You mean… _our_ guys did that to me?!"

Joker nodded, and she whirled around to face four of her own henchmen, one of them holding the bag that had been over her head. With a shriek of fury, Harley raised her bat and slammed it across each of them in turn. "Don't…ever…kidnap…me…again!" she screamed, beating them at each word.

"Pumpkin pie, calm down!" said Joker, racing over to her and wrenching the bat out of her hand. "They were only following my orders!"

"You ordered them to kidnap me?!" shouted Harley, furiously. "Why the hell would you do that, Mr. J?! You nearly scared me to death! I thought we were under attack, that Two-Face or Penguin had got you…what the hell were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking I didn't want you stumbling onto the surprise while we were setting it up and ruining it," retorted Joker.

"What surprise?" demanded Harley. "What the hell is going on, Mr. J?!"

Joker smiled, and then snapped his fingers. "Boys!" he called.

The lights in the loading bay gradually grew brighter, and Harley heard a crowd of male voices on either side of them singing the words, " _Da da da daaa, da da da daaaa, da da da da da da da da da da._ "

None of the henchmen were exactly in tune, so it was fairly difficult to tell what they were singing, but Harley eventually recognized it as the song " _Here Comes the Bride_ ," which only increased her confusion. Then the lights came up enough that she noticed an unfamiliar object at the end of the trail of votive candles – it was like a small table with a white tablecloth, and rose petals and candles on top of it. And then Harley noticed the figure standing in front of the table, restrained and terrified. He was dressed all in black and clutched a Bible in his hands as if for dear life…and suddenly it all clicked, although Harley couldn't believe it.

She stared at Joker, stunned, and he smiled at the shock on her face. "Surprised?" he asked.

"Y…yeah," stammered Harley. "Mr. J, this…this ain't what I think it is, is it?"

Joker chuckled. "Your wedding, pumpkin? It sure is. Surprise!" he exclaimed. "Happy wedding day!"

Harley just gaped at him. "But…but puddin', I ain't…dressed for a wedding…I…must look terrible from the kidnapping…hair and makeup all messed up…"

"You've looked worse," he interrupted. "And I like the outfit, kid, as you well know," he chuckled.

Tears of joy came to Harley's eyes. "But…puddin'…you ain't even proposed to me yet," she whispered.

Joker laughed. "Guess I am jumping the gun a little. Sure hope you'll say yes, though, after all the trouble I went through to arrange this thing. Had to tell Strange I was on my deathbed and wanted to have my last rites just to get him to send a priest in here. Believe me, it was no easy feat convincing him that I'd suddenly become a born again Christian."

He reached into his jacket pocket. "I won't kneel down – hard for me to get up these days," he said. "But here ya go, kiddo."

He opened the small box to reveal, not a ring, but a leather collar with a silver buckle. "Not a lotta jewelry lying around in here," he said. "And I can't really bust outta here and steal you a ring. But I thought maybe one of the babies' old collars would please my little pet, and work as a substitute. I got it adjusted to your size, I think," he said, fastening it around her neck.

Harley gently touched the collar, tears of sadness filling her eyes this time as she remembered how the Penguin had shot and stuffed their pet hyenas. But she honestly couldn't think of a more perfect symbol to wear to express her love for them, and her love for her own master.

"It's beautiful, puddin'," she whispered, smiling at him.

He grinned. "So whaddya say, kiddo?" he asked, taking her hand. "You wanna make it legal?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Mr. J," she whispered, the tears trailing down her face. "I really do."

"C'mon, boys, keep singing!" called Joker to the henchmen on either side of them as he led Harley down the aisle of candles to the makeshift altar at the end. He leaned heavily against both her and his cane, and Harley knew walking was difficult for him. Her utter elation that this was finally happening was dimmed slightly by Mr. J's condition, but she refused to think about that now. She refused to think about anything other than the fact that finally, after all these years, she was about to become Mrs. Joker.

"Whenever you're ready," said Joker, beaming at the priest as he and Harley stood together in front of the altar.

The priest opened his mouth, but he was shaking in uncontrollable terror for his life, and no words came out. "Sometime today, please, padre," said Joker, still smiling. "I don't exactly have all the time in the world."

The priest tried again, but the only words that came out were, "Please don't kill me!" and a slew of babbling to the same effect.

Joker held up his hand to silence him. "Look, what's the minimum you have to do to make this legal?" he asked.

"I…I have to ask the I dos, the objections, and then…pronounce you man and wife," he gasped.

"Ok. Do that, and I promise I'll let you go," said Joker.

"A…alive?" stammered the priest. "You…you promise you won't kill me?"

"I promise," said Joker, nodding. "On this, my wedding day. Cross my heart and hope to die," he said, making the sign of the cross backwards over his heart.

The priest nodded slowly, trying to calm down. "Miss…Miss Quinn, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

"I do," whispered Harley, gazing at Joker with tears in her eyes.

"And do you…the Joker…take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

"Sure, why not!" chuckled Joker. "Sounds like a laugh riot!"

"If…there are any objections to this union…may they speak now or forever hold their peace," said the priest.

There was silence, and Joker breathed a sigh of relief. "Phew! That's normally when things get hairy in the movies," he said, grinning at Harley.

"And so…by the power vested in me…I now pronounce you…man and wife," whispered the priest. "You may kiss the bride."

In that instant, the instant their lips met in a tender kiss, Harley forgot everything – that they were locked in some dump of a super-prison, that Joker was sick and probably dying, that she had been manhandled and kidnapped by her own henchmen earlier. She blocked out all thoughts except for the fact that she was kissing her husband. It was the happiest moment of her life.

The henchmen all applauded and cheered, and Joker drew away at last, beaming. "And now, my bubble-headed bride, we can have some real fun," he said, grinning. "As a wedding present, I'm giving you this priest to torture and kill. Y'know, to get us both in the mood for our wedding night," he murmured.

"Aw, Mr. J, how thoughtful!" said Harley, smiling. "You're just the sweetest!"

"But…but you promised you wouldn't!" cried the priest, as the henchmen seized him and dragged him over toward one of the furnaces.

"I promised _I_ wouldn't," agreed Joker. "Didn't say anything about my wife though."

He frowned. "Though maybe there is something somewhere in the marriage vows about man and wife being one flesh, so technically my wife doing something is the same as me doing it, which will be good for future alibis, actually…"

He shrugged. "Oh well. Guess you skipped that part so it doesn't count, eh, padre?"

The priest had turned into a blubbering mess, screaming and sobbing as Joker leaned on Harley and they headed into the smelting chamber. The henchmen hung the priest over a vat of melted metal as Joker and Harley took their place in the control room.

"Do the honors, pumpkin pie!" chuckled Joker. "And happy wedding day!"

Harley grinned. "Happy wedding day, puddin'," she whispered, pushing the button that lowered the priest into the vat. And over his screams of agony and the smell of burning flesh, they kissed.


	3. Chapter 3

...

" **I'm a widow. Do you think you can measure up to my Joker? He…he was the best a girl could get! I miss him so much, and you…you think it's ok to move in on his turf?!" – Harley Quinn,** _ **Batman: Arkham City, Harley Quinn's Revenge DLC**_

...

Harley sighed happily, snuggling against Joker's naked chest as they leaned back against the pillows. She was naked except for her collar, which she touched gently, smiling. "Well, this may have started out as a pretty crap day, but it sure ended great," she whispered, beaming at him.

He shrugged. "Yeah. Kinda thought married sex would feel different than usual, less exciting, y'know, 'cause it's legit and all. But it doesn't."

"Nope, still just as incredible," murmured Harley, trailing her finger down his chest and frowning slightly at the blotchy patches that marred his white skin. She couldn't avoid being reminded of his condition, even in the most perfect of moments. She sighed.

"What?" he asked. "You want more? Jesus, you're never satisfied, are you, you dumb blonde? My body can't take a pounding the way it used to, y'know!"

"It ain't that, Mr. J," she murmured. "It's…"

She trailed off. A sudden realization hit her, and she sat up, gazing into his eyes. "That's why…you decided to marry me now, isn't it?" she whispered. "Because you know…you ain't getting any better."

He gazed back at her, nodding slowly. "I…may not be around forever. And in case I go sooner rather than later, it's important that things are taken care of properly. I don't want the law sticking its big nose into my affairs and trying to prevent me from doing what I want done after I'm gone. So things like inheritance have gotta be nice and legal, and a man's widow inherits everything he's got. No mucky situations with the law – we've had more than our fair share of those without having to worry about posthumous ones, huh, pumpkin pie?" he chuckled.

"How can you laugh at that?" whispered Harley. "How can I laugh when I know…that my husband is dying? And to know that that's the only reason he married me…"

"To help you, pumpkin," retorted Joker. "To make things easier for you after I'm gone."

"Nothing's gonna be easy after you're gone!" shrieked Harley. "Jesus Christ, Mr. J, how could you do this to me?! How could you drop a bombshell like this on our wedding night, and tell me you only married me because you'll be dead soon?! What kinda heartless monster are you?!"

"What, you want me to lie to you?" he demanded. "Keep pretending everything's just fine and dandy? If I'm dying, I'm gonna make damn sure I spend my last few months of life actually living, not sleepwalking through some delusion! I gotta prepare for my death, and so do you!"

"How exactly do you expect me to do that?!" shrieked Harley. "How do you expect me to prepare for the end of my world?! You were the one who taught me I didn't have to face reality, Mr. J! You taught me to be crazy and make reality the way you want to see it! Well, I can't face reality right now! I gotta stay crazy! And if that means pretending that you ain't dying to preserve what little sanity I have left, that's what I'm gonna do!"

"Fine, you do that," he retorted. "But I can't. I gotta make sure my last laugh is a good one, I gotta think up some killer gag to top all gags, a joke they'll remember forever after I'm gone…"

He choked suddenly and began coughing, deep, rasping hacks that spat flecks of blood onto the sheets. Harley held him tightly, shutting her eyes, trying to block out the sound, trying to block out reality…

He stopped coughing at last, falling back on the pillows and gasping. "One great, big, last laugh," he whispered. "That's all I've got left, Harley."

"That ain't all you got left," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "That ain't all you're gonna leave behind either. You got your wife…"

She choked on a sob. "Your wife," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his white chest, breathing in the scent of him and trying to savor it, trying to savor the feel of his skin against hers, the feel of her husband's body…

He said nothing, stroking her hair gently. "What am I gonna do, puddin'?" she whispered. "What am I gonna do after you're gone? How am I gonna cope?"

"You will," he murmured. "I have faith in you, Harley. You're strong. After all my years of hurting you, you're too strong to break now. I need you to carry on, to take over the gang, to continue my work…"

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't. Not alone. Not without you."

He tilted her chin up. "Hey," he said. "I got an idea. A way to help with the loneliness, and help you remember me."

"What?" she asked, raising her tear-stained face to his.

He climbed slowly out of bed, reaching for his cane and steadying himself as he walked across the bedroom to a chest of drawers. He rifled through these for a moment, and finally pulled out a video camera.

"We film stuff," he said, smiling at her.

"What stuff?" asked Harley.

"All stuff!" he said, happily. "Us going about our daily lives, showing all aspects of our relationship, even the…x-rated parts," he murmured, coming back over to her and kissing her. "That should help you physically after I'm gone anyway – might give your private time alone that little added spice."

"You mean…film all of our final days together?" asked Harley, slowly.

"I mean film our married life," he murmured. "All of it, until death do us part."

Harley took the camera from him. "So…we'll start by filming the honeymoon, huh?" she asked, grinning.

"I think that would only be accurate, pooh," he agreed, kissing her nose.

Harley giggled. "I think it's a great idea, puddin'," she said, helping him back into bed. She paused. "And…I got one too, that kinda relates to our honeymoon."

"Mmm, I wanna hear all your ideas about that," murmured Joker. "They've always been so naughty in the past, pumpkin pie."

Harley took his hand. "I don't wanna be alone after you're gone," she whispered. "I wanna have something to remember you by."

"Yeah, that's why we're filming everything, pumpkin…" began Joker.

"Something real," interrupted Harley. "Something living and breathing, that contains some part of you…"

She looked up at him. "I wanna have your baby, Mr. J," she murmured.

"Baby?" he repeated. "Gee, I dunno, pooh. Babies are hard work for a single mother, and I really need you to focus your attention on running the gang…"

"Please, puddin'," she whispered. "I'll raise him in your image - he can be your heir after we're both gone. Your legacy, who'll pass on your tradition even after Gotham stops talking about your jokes. Your child will always be there to remind them of who the greatest criminal genius this city has ever known was. It'll be such a good gag to play on the people of Gotham, and on Batman – years after the Joker dies, his child brings his comical insanity back. His child brings back the punchlines and the madness and the gags that can never die. It'll be the greatest joke on the citizens of Gotham you ever coulda played."

Joker was silent, lost in thought. Harley could see the gears in his brain turning as his bright green eyes sparked with mad possibilities. And then he threw back his head and laughed.

"Yeah, I like it!" he chuckled. "The Joker can't die – he just keeps coming back in a slightly different form! He's immortal! And think how much it'll annoy Batsy – he'll probably be at retirement age right when the kid's ready to take up the Joker mantle. Won't he be surprised when Joker Junior cancels his plans for a boring old age on the golf course!" he laughed.

Harley beamed. "Thank you, puddin'," she whispered, kissing his hand. "Thank you."

She stood up, propping the video camera up at the foot of the bed. "So how does this work?" he asked. "You just stop taking the pill, or…"

"Yeah, I will," she agreed, turning on the camera. "And then we just gotta…keep enjoying our honeymoon," she murmured, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap. "Just keep having a lotta fun, puddin'."

"I think I can do that, pooh!" he giggled, pulling her down on top of him. "I'm all ready to rev up my Harley!"

Harley giggled, turning to grin at the camera. "Ain't I the luckiest girl in the world to have him for my husband, folks?" she asked, beaming.


	4. Chapter 4

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" **He's sicker than me 'n' Harley's honeymoon tapes, but I think he's onto something." – Joker,** _ **Batman: Arkham Knight**_

...

Harley paused the tape there, at her past self smiling, while her present self wiped away tears. She couldn't bear to watch the sex scenes right now – they reminded her too much of what she had lost forever. And what she had failed to accomplish, even with so many of them, she thought, fast-forwarding the tape with one hand as the other rested on her belly. Empty and barren, she had found out today, in a soul-crushing revelation. She wasn't pregnant. Her earlier test had given her a false positive. And now the Joker was gone, and she never would get to have his baby. She was alone, and she always would be.

The tapes were her only comfort now, she thought, as she ejected this one suddenly, taking it out of the video player and carrying it over to her closet. She opened this to reveal a massive collection of tapes, all marked and separated and carefully preserved. Some of them she had freeze-framed and looped, putting on Joker statues around the hideout. Some of them were her private collection for her eyes only. And some she had labeled as stuff to make her smile when she was having a bad day. Today had been the worst day since the Joker's death, not that there had really been a good day since the Joker's death, she reminded herself. Everything in her life kept going from bad to worse, especially now that she was a widow.

After Protocol Ten, all the supercriminals had been taken back into custody. Harley had been forced to endure therapy sessions from amateur doctors, who were convinced she was delusional when she gave her name as Mrs. Harleen Frances Joker. They tried futilely to cure her delusion by telling her she wasn't married, that the Joker had never loved her enough to do that, but Harley knew the truth. She just kept repeating the name Mrs. Harleen Frances Joker, even as she beat the doctors to death during her breakout. They couldn't take the truth away from her, like life had taken her baby. It was one thing nobody could ever take from her.

She replaced the tape in its case and pulled out another one, one to make her smile. She carried this over to the TV, popping it into the player and curling up on the floor to watch it.

She saw her past self, smiling and waving at the screen. "Hi, future me!" she said, cheerfully. "I know you're having a hard time, and things are sad, and you need some cheering up! Well, if anyone can put a smile on that gloomy face of yours, it's your husband! The funniest, happiest, most incredible guy who ever lived, ain't that right, puddin'?" she asked, turning the camera on Joker, who sat hunched over some plans.

"I'm trying to work, Harley!" he snapped, whirling around.

"Yeah, but I'm trying to make this video for when future me's depressed," replied Harley. "C'mon, Mr. J, do something to cheer her up. Nobody can spread smiles like you can!"

Joker sighed heavily, turning his chair around to face the camera. He smiled. "Harley, you need to cheer up. Nobody likes a sourpuss. And if you brood much longer over things, you'll turn out like Batman! And just think what a fate worse than death that would be! Plus knowing that humorless chump, he'd probably sue you for copyright infringement if you went all Batty or something. Never could take a joke," he sighed. "Speaking of which, why did the Bat fall out of the tree? Because I killed it!" he laughed. Past Harley joined him in hysterical laughter, until Joker choked on a fit of coughing. It took him some time to recover and catch his breath, but he just picked up where he left off.

"But enough about Batman, pooh," he said, smiling at the camera. "Let's talk about me! Your adoring Mr. J! You gotta cheer up because if you don't, you'll undo all my hard work. I made you my Harley Quinn, the Joker's girl who smiles and laughs all the time, just like him. You can't let me down, Harley. You can't let my memory die by letting all those morons out there think I did a crap job on you. I need you to be happy, Harley. For me. Because I can't be happy anymore. You're the only one left to carry on the Joker legacy now, at least until Joker Junior arrives," he said, reaching out a hand to pat past Harley's belly.

He leaned forward into the camera. "Now smile, pooh bear," he murmured. "And remember how important you are. Not just to me, but to Batsy and Gotham as well. They'd be so bored without someone like me to tango with! You're that someone now, Harley. I'm counting on you. Don't let me down. You never have before, and you won't start now. You go out there and you spread smiles and laughter and madness untold onto the streets of Gotham, just like your Mr. J would. You make me proud, pooh. Make your husband proud."

He smiled, and present Harley paused the tape, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed at his face, frozen forever like this. At least she always had his smile, and his laugh, and his words to comfort her. "I will make you proud, puddin'," she whispered. "I swear."

She unpaused the tape, and past Harley turned the camera back on herself. "You're a lucky gal, Harley," she said, smiling into the lens. "Always remember that. Outta all the people in the world, Mr. J picked you to carry on his legacy. He picked you to be his wife. Don't you ever forget that, and hang in there, kid. Say buh bye, Mr. J!" she called, turning the camera back to Joker, who had returned to his work.

He had lost all interest again, his mind entirely focused back on his plans. He grunted and gave the camera a slight wave. "Why doncha stop filming crap and make me some dinner, you useless waste of space?" he asked.

"I sure will, puddin'," said past Harley, cheerfully. "It's really the least your wife can do for you."

She put the camera down and skipped over to him, kissing his forehead. Then she skipped out of the room. Joker worked in silence for some minutes, and then turned, noticing the camera suddenly. He sighed, heading over to it. "Forgot to turn the damn thing off, worthless brat, I tell ya," he muttered, and then the tape stopped.

Present Harley stared at the blank screen, and then wiped her eyes. "Ok, puddin'," she whispered. "Let's do this."

She took out the tape and replaced it carefully in the closet, and then shut and locked the door. She headed out of her bedroom and down into the loading bay of the Steel Mill, where her remaining henchmen lounged around.

"Ambush all set?" she demanded.

"Yes, ma'am," said one, saluting. "Gordon's guys ain't gonna know what hit 'em."

"Good," said Harley. "Bats'll come rescue them for sure. We set a trap, catch him, and then kill him, for Mr. J."

She nodded. "Get going," she ordered. "And that goes for the rest of you losers. You blow this operation and I'll use you for a pinata, you get me?"

"Yes, boss," they all said, filing out.

Harley unsheathed her gun and touched her leather collar which she never removed from her neck, whispering, "This is for you, Mr. J." Then she followed the henchmen out into another cold, dark night in Arkham City.

 **The End**


End file.
